


Let's Exchange the Experience

by indevan



Series: Running Up That Hill [5]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: He never had a grasp on who he was from the outside.  A sense of identity.  He was the son of a dead warrior and a survivor who kept pushing and pushing until death finally pushed back.  He was Gohan’s pupil who had been able to do nothing but find his body.  And then what?  A time-displaced boy whose every prediction was wrong because he had come as a butterfly, flapping his wings and causing air currents that changed everything





	Let's Exchange the Experience

He had time to read now.  His mother had taught him in the safety of their house.  She sat with him and pushed his hair back as he sounded out words, praising him when he was able to get through a battered picture book.  Later, with Gohan. He would sit with him while they rested between bouts of training, sharing his favorite books with him. They would read a couple chapters while their muscles relaxed and their bodies cooled down.

Later, there was no time for that.

In the time of peace after the androids and before Black, he was deemed Earth’s protector and there was no time for relaxation.  There was rebuilding and rallying people together.

Now he had time.  He could find the hundreds upon thousands of books he had never read and sit and read them on his days off.  History was at ease and their life was normal, pleasant. Nightmares and insomnia dogged him at every turn but they were sliding into the minority of his time.  Moments of laughter and happiness filled more and more of his life. It was still strange to think about.

He sat on the couch with a book, one he had seen in the cluttered, used bookshop that neighbored the coffee place where he worked.  Goten’s head rested against his thigh, his breathing deep in sleep. Trunks wanted to tell him to quit tending bar at that club and work at the coffee shop.  He hated the way the pounding bass penetrated the earplugs he wore due to his sensitive, Saiyan ears. The tips were good, though, which was why he stayed. And he could get them discounts when bands came to play shows.  That was reason enough for him to stay, he said. Trunks didn’t care for it and a selfish part of him wanted them working the same hours, not days and nights.

Still, the weight of him against him was pleasant he got to watch him in sleep.  His hair was growing out. It was starting to take shape like his father’s hair and Trunks wondered if he was letting it because he missed him.  The black and orange jacket he had found at the consignment shop had made his eyes mist with nostalgia and grief. Maybe the hair was another thing.  Trunks knew that. Sometimes he would stare at his own eyes, remembering the color of his mother’s or push his hair back to stare at the high slope of his forehead and the way his ears stuck out, both of which were gifts from his father.

His dark lashes clumped on the tops of his cheeks and, when he looked away from his novel, he could see his eyes moving beneath his lids.  Trunks smiled. It was good that one of them was getting more sleep. Mai had taken to making them both tea at night and it helped even though now he woke up in the middle of the night to pee.

He seemed to be the only one treasuring Goten’s slumber, it seemed.  Noodles crept around the back of the couch and stared at Trunks’s lap and Goten’s face, passive in sleep.  He wasn’t sure if cats could glare but he was certain that he was. He seemed put out that Goten was on Trunks’s lap when that was his ideal real estate at this particular moment.

He clicked his tongue at him quietly. “Go on, Noodles.  Go lie on the bed.”

Being a cat, he of course didn’t listen.  He bent down on his haunches and jumped, landing cleanly on Trunks’s lap--and Goten’s face.  His boyfriend didn’t stir, not at all perturbed by the cat whose backside was firmly planted on his forehead.  Noodles purred contentedly, kneading his paws on Trunks’s other thigh.

Goten made a snuffling sound in his sleep and rolled over.  Noodles, frightened by the sudden movement, leapt off as quickly as he leapt on.  He scampered towards the open door to their bedroom and turned around, his tail curled in a question mark and the same glare Trunks swore he saw before in his eyes.

_ That _ finally seemed to get him to wake up and Goten peered up at him.

“How long was I out?” he asked, smothering a yawn.

“Not long.  I’m only a couple chapters in.”

He stretched and sat up, his head still resting on Trunks’s shoulder.  He loved how tactile he was. The only time Trunks was able to express himself physically was in moments of pure emotion.  Seeing Mai was alive after Black’s explosion. Rushing to support his father when he was injured. Holding Goten at night when his body was wracked with sobs and nightmares.  Him initiating casual touches made things a lot easier. He could follow his lead and run his fingers through his hair.

“Is this the book about the rabbits?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that.”

He stuck his finger in the book to hold his place and looked at the cover.  The book was worn to the point of the cover nearly being lost to time but he could make out the outline of a rabbit and the faded pastoral setting around it.  The spine was nearly broken in two and the pages were yellowed, some falling apart, so he had to be careful while he read it.

“More?”

“Yeah, there’s this character that reminds me of my father.”

“A rabbit?” Goten had that arch little smile on when he was being contrary on purpose.

“Yes,” he impressed. “There’s this big, scarred rabbit who’s strong and sure of himself and takes hits, but keeps getting back up.”

Goten laughed. “That  _ does _ sound like Vegeta.  Is there one for me?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he admitted, “but I’ll let you know.”

His smile slipped from one borne from wryness to his gentle, sweet smile that never failed to make Trunks’s insides melt.

“Okay, definitely.  I wanna know who my rabbit counterpart is.” He tilted his face up to nip at Trunks’s jaw. “Is there a Trunks rabbit?”

“I...dunno.”

He never had a grasp on who he was from the outside.  A sense of identity. He was the son of a dead warrior and a survivor who kept pushing and pushing until death finally pushed back.  He was Gohan’s pupil who had been able to do nothing but find his body. And then what? A time-displaced boy whose every prediction was wrong because he had come as a butterfly, flapping his wings and causing air currents that changed everything.  A “savior” after that, revered by survivors. Mai’s failed lover and later friend. Goten’s boyfriend. The one who often ended up scooping Noodles and C(h)ronos’s litterbox.

All defined by other people.

“I’m sure there is.” Goten nipped at his jaw again. “A cute, strong, brave rabbit who nearly flooded our apartment because he thought you could put dish soap in the dishwasher.”

He groaned.

“When are you going to let that go?”

“When the entire kitchen stops smelling like lemon soap.”

Goten nuzzled against his shoulder and let his hand drop to the book cover, his index finger tracing over the faded rabbit.

“We could also stop talking about both rabbits  _ and _ dish soap.”

“But you were the one who--oh.”

He saw the look on his face, inviting.  Sultry. Trunks dog-eared his page and put the book on the table in front of them.  They were alone in the apartment--Mai was at work.

He lifted his face to Goten’s

\--

They moved to the bedroom because Mai said she hated it when they did it on the couch--her bed.  That was fair. Trunks had a vivid memory of choosing to sprawl out on the floor in the Capsule Corp living room because his father, with his usual tact, had implied that he had possibly been conceived on that couch.

Afterwards, when they’ve both cleaned themselves off, Goten pressed against him, lining their bodies up.  He kissed at his jaw, his throat, the rise of his collarbone.

“You seem distracted,” he said. “Are you still thinking about the rabbits?”

Trunks looked at him for a moment, not understanding it.

“What?  Oh, no.”

Not really.  It was what Goten’s question earlier, innocuous as it was, awoke in him.  His lack of identity. His inability to parse who he was from the other people in his life.  And if he could do that, if he could separate himself from his trauma. Was that regular? There was no “before and after” for him.  There was a constant, from when he was a baby.

“Then what is it?  Usually, when I’m in you, you make this  _ face _ and you weren’t.” Goten pouted. “What’s wrong?”

He brushed the back of his hand against Trunks’s cheek and he nuzzled into it.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mm, no.  You’re a bad liar.  Somehow worse than me.” He laughed, but then his face grew serious. “Tell me.  You don’t have to keep it in.”

Trunks looked at him.  At his earnestly beautiful face.  This was what couples did, right? They talked these things out rather than stew on them.  He was still new to this. When he and Mai were together, he spent most of the time feeling bad that he couldn’t get into having sex.

“It’s…” He stared up at the ceiling and then exhaled. “I don’t...know who I am.  Like on my own.”

It seemed foolish to say it out loud and he looked down to watch Goten’s face.  He looked like he was puzzling something out. The way his brows furrowed and his lower lip stuck out.

“Hmm.  What do you mean?”

He wasn’t sure if he was actually asking or if he wanted Trunks to verbally work it out himself.

“When you asked if there was a character like me in that book.  I wouldn’t know if there was. I. Only know myself in relation to other people.”

He felt himself flush in embarrassment but Goten just nodded along.  He turned a hand out to prompt him to keep going.

“I’m my parents’ son.  Your boyfriend. The Supreme Kai of Time’s resident pain in the ass...I have no idea who I am.  My counterpart from the, uh, universe I saved. He has himself figured out. I...don’t.”

The heat that prickled the back of his neck spread and he was aware that the tips of his ears were probably flushed, too.

“I see.”

Goten picked up his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist, where you could feel the pulse.  His lips traveled up, pressing little kisses along his inner arm, to his shoulder and then his neck.  Trunks tipped his head back. He felt ready to go again, even dogged by these insecurities. It was the reaction he had to Goten.  The way he made him feel.

“Is that...I don’t know.  Silly?”

He felt him shake his head since Goten was still tucked in the crook of his neck.  Trunks reached out to stroke down his back, fitting his fingers between the knobs of his spine.

“It’s not,” he murmured, his breath hot on Trunks’s flushed skin.

Goten slipped his hand under the sheet and, for that moment, the thoughts and insecurities fled his mind.

\--

Trunks couldn’t find his book.  He swore that he left it on their coffee table before he and Goten went into the bedroom, but when he looked for it the next morning, it was gone.  He searched under the couch to see if one of the cats knocked it off but it wasn’t there.

He walked to the kitchen where Mai was pounding the side of her fist on the coffeemaker.  She was the only one in the apartment who had the luxury of doing that without the fear of crushing it to powder.

“Did you see my book?”

Mai froze, her fist in midair, and said, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

He gestured to the living room.

“It was on the coffee table.  Did you see it when you got back?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Mai had closed the night before and he and Goten had turned in early, neither wanting to get out of bed after their third or fourth round of the night.  He sighed. With no sign of the book on or around the table and Mai having no clue about it, he supposed that the trials and tribulations of those rabbits would be out of his reach.

“Where’s Goten?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Still?” She frowned and played with the edge of her hair. “He better not clog the toilet again.”

Trunks nodded his agreement.  Last time they had actually had to call a plumber since the plunger and the snake were ineffective.  And Goten still gave him grief over the dishwasher thing.

As if he was aware that they were talking about him, Trunks heard the toilet in their one bathroom flush.  Moments later, Goten emerged.

“I heard that,” he said and swooped down to kiss Trunks’s cheek. “Mornin’.”

Mai resumed attacking the coffeemaker and Trunks worried what her next move would be.  One of her mothers and her “uncles” had taught her basic robotics so he had a sinking feeling that she would find a way to “fix” the machine and it would end up trying to kill them.  As for Trunks, he never really listened to his mother when she spoke of her inventions--something he deeply regretted--and would be of no use to fix it.

Goten adjusted Gohan’s cardigan with one hand and placed the object in his other hand down on the counter.  Trunks followed the movement and felt his brows furrow in confusion when he saw what it was.

“What were you doing with my book?”

Goten looked over as if he hadn’t realized that he had put it down but his performance wasn’t going to make of the Hollywood glitterati lose any sleep.

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows and formed his mouth into an O of surprise. “I was reading it in the bathroom.”

“What?  You were?”

He nodded and opened the fridge.

“Anyone want a fry-up?  I got bacon yesterday.”

“Yes.” Mai smacked her open palm on the side of the coffeemaker and turned away in disgust,apparently done with it.

Trunks was a bit too disoriented to answer.  He shouldn’t have been. It was just a  _ book, _ but--Goten didn’t even ask.  Was that a couple thing, too? All belongings were jointly owned?  Shit, he was bad at this. Maybe he wasn’t ready or meant to do this.  Regular boys probably weren’t hung up on this. But regular boys weren’t half-aliens who saved and doomed the universe in equal measure and answered to both a tiny, pink ruler of time and a disgruntled manager of a coffee shop.

Goten emerged from the fridge balancing a pack of bacon on top of the carton of eggs.  He placed them both near the stove and kicked the door shut.

“I figured it out,” he said.

“Figured what out?”

He gestured to the book.

“Hazel.”

“What?”

Goten bent down to retrieve the frying pan and repeated, “Hazel.”

Trunks still wasn’t sure what he was talking about.  What did that have to with him taking his book?

“You’re Hazel,” he repeated.

He set the frying pan on the stove, cranked the knob to the left and then to the right to ignite the flame.  He did the same with the burner next to it and placed another frying pan on it.

“In the book,” he said when Trunks didn’t respond. “He’s the Trunks rabbit.  You’re Hyzenthlay, by the way.”

Mai frowned. “I’m what?”

Goten waved his hand as if to say “never mind” and went back to the fridge.  He emerged again with a tub of butter.

“Sorry I just grabbed it,” he said and hitched his chin towards the book. “But I wanted to help.”

He dipped a butter knife into the tub and dropped it into the pan as it heated up before repeating the action on the other.

“I know it isn’t the same as you coming to the conclusion yourself, but…”

It dawned on him.  Goten had taken the book to help Trunks out.  He couldn’t make Trunks be able to view himself outside his relationships to other people, outside his trauma, and he knew that.  He could help him a little, though, with finding out which sad rabbit he was.

He cracked the eggs into one pan, humming while he did.  Unable to help himself, Trunks came and wrapped his arms around his waist.  Goten started for a moment and he felt bad at acting without letting him know first.  He didn’t have as much of an issue with being surprised as he did, but he still didn’t like being startled.  He relaxed, though, and let out a soft laugh.

“I love you,” he said, planting a kiss on the side of his neck.

Mai watched them with curious eyes and then shook her head.

“I’m so lost.” She turned from them to glare at the coffeemaker. “I’m going to go get us coffee.  I’ll be back.”

She was still in her pajamas but seemed not to care as she threw her coat over it and shoved her feet in her shoes.  She didn’t bother to ask for their orders because they all three always ordered the same thing. The door opened and closed and then they were alone.

“I wasn’t sure how to help,” Goten said. “But I wanted to.  For you.”

“For me.”

Content to be in his arms, Goten ripped open the back of bacon and began separating strips to place in the frying pan.

“I’m serving you as much as me,” he said. “You don’t have to finish it.”

Trunks nodded.  Part of his recovery was trying to reclaim his Saiyan appetite after forcibly curbing it due to food shortages for years.  It was hard, sometimes. His stomach cramped up and his throat closed, but he was getting better. Most days, anyway, when things were good.  This was a good day.

“Okay,” he said and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“He’s a leader,” Goten said over the sizzle of the bacon.

“Who is?”

“The rabbit.  Hazel. He’s smart and strong and others trust him.  That’s what made me think of you.”

Trunks smiled, warmed by the thought.

“Thank you.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, the only sound the eggs and bacon cooking.  Trunks sniffed the air and rocked his head from side to side, Goten’s words turning in his head.  Maybe this was time to learn who he was. Not let who he was connected to or his past overwhelm him.  Find out who Trunks was without Goten’s help.

He wanted to say this but something from earlier came back to his head.

“Wait.  Are you cooking the bacon in butter?”

“I absolutely am.”


End file.
